Page 52 of My Secret Duke
He wasn’t looking over his shoulder now. He was entirely focused on Olivia.
“Sometimes life seems very boring without you.”
He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Say yes, Olivia. Let us cut through those restrictions society and family have placed upon us and pretend we are free to do as we please, for just one day.”
Her heart was beating so fast and hard in her breast that she put her hand to it, as if to hold it in. If she was in disguise, who would know? Only Ivo. This would be something far more exciting than anything she had done for ages. She shouldn’t do it, but she wanted to. Desperately. Surely she deserved one day of freedom out of all the days she had tried so hard to be good?
“When would this ridiculous dare take place?” she asked as evenly as she could manage.
He stiffened, suddenly alert, as if that was the last thing he had expected. His smile was dazzling and slightly predatory. “This day a fortnight hence. Five o’clock in the morning, meet at Hyde Park Corner and—why not?—race along Rotten Row. I don’t know if your intentions are genuine, Olivia, or if you’re playing gameswith me. But if you want to go ahead with this, then a simple nod to me the next time we meet will be sufficient to let me know.”
When she had nothing to say to that, he gave a polite bow and walked away. Olivia watched him return to the others, her mind still a chaotic jumble. Miss Fenwick looked up at him with a smile as he stopped by her chair.
Olivia had sworn to live her own life, but why did it have to be a life that made her want to scream at the tedium? The prospect of racing Ivo and beating him at something he considered his strong suit made her senses come alive. They were buzzing, but she tried to think calmly.
What if she was caught? What would happen then? Banishment to Grantham probably. This was her last chance, and if she went ahead and indulged in the sort of reckless behavior she had vowed to correct in herself, then she only had herself to blame.
The alternative? Stability, marrying sensibly, playing the bountiful sister… A boring life with a man she couldn’t love. Well, all of that was still ahead of her in some form or another. She was not wealthy enough to travel the world or become an eccentric spinster thumbing her nose at convention. And if she was honest, she wouldn’t want to. Shewasconventional, in the sense that she wanted love and marriage and a family.
But before she bowed to the inevitable, she wanted some fun.
There was another problem, and it was a huge impediment: she could barely ride. Certainly not well enough to race someone down Rotten Row! Was it an insurmountable problem? Many would say it was, but they were not Olivia Ashton.
Robertacouldride. Olivia sometimes thought her sister was half horse! Roberta could teach her the rudiments of horsemanship, or at least enough so that she would not fall off and make a complete fool of herself. And Roberta could be persuaded to keep it a secret, or, if necessary, be bribed to do so.
A fortnight hence was also Justina’s coming-out, but that was in the evening, and she would race Ivo at five o’clock in the morning. Plenty of time to recover. No one would be the wiser. It was feasible.
She admitted then that this pretense at weighing up the pros and cons was just that: a pretense. She was going to accept. Just imagining the look on his face when she joined him at Hyde Park Corner—the amazement anddelight. Ivo wanted her to say yes, he wanted their relationship to return to what it had been in the beginning. And if she won, he would find pleasure in that and tell her so. He might even kiss her.
Olivia’s heart gave a heavy knock against her ribs. The soft press of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the hard shape of his body against hers. The very thought of it made her quite dizzy. Her fingers itched to slide through the hair at his nape, while the scent of his pomade only heightened her longing.
If you want to go ahead with this, then a simple nod to me the next time we meet will be sufficient to let me know.
Olivia scanned the room.
Ivo was standing with the others, busy smiling and chatting as if he had forgotten all about her. He probably thought she would refuse, or make some paltry excuse to wriggle out of it. He’d probably given up on her altogether and was about to dare Miss Fenwick to do somethingoutrageous instead.
At that moment, the dowager, still sleeping in her chair, woke with a start—which everyone pretended not to notice. In a loud voice, she announced that it was time they were leaving. Obediently, Olivia hurried to her side, but as they donned their outdoor clothing while the coach was brought around, she finally caught Ivo’s eye. He was watching her intently, and she read a degree of doubt in those green eyes. Hadhechanged his mind?
She nodded her head firmly, just once, and watched his eyes widen and his mouth curve up in a wicked grin. She had surprised him, but she had pleased him too.
As they made their way out to the coach, her heart continued to beat that wild tattoo. No backing out now. The Olivia of recent months would have been shocked at such an irresponsible decision, but this Olivia wasn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath of the cool evening air and felt a wonderful sense of freedom. As if she had thrown aside the expectations that had recently plagued her. As if she had burned her bridges and said to hell with everything. As if she was herself again.
Just for a little while.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ivo may have played down his concern. He might have put on a brave face, assuming the familiar role of an amusing, devil-may-care gentleman, but beneath that façade, he was worried. He had yet to discover why Mystere—if the culprit was the mysterious Frenchman—would wish him ill. Even the reliable Bourne had failed to turn up any secrets about the smuggler or about Jacob Rendall with his walleye, who seemed to have disappeared completely. During a visit to see Ivo in London, Bourne had informed him that Lieutenant Harrison and his revenue underlings had been in Portside, asking questions of the villagers and sniffing around for evidence. They seemed more determined than ever to bring Ivo to justice.
And if Ivo’s right-hand man was troubled, when Bourne was rarely troubled, then matters were dire indeed.
In better news, Cadieux’s was doing very well, but there was still the question of Charles’s identity. Ivo was yet to decide how he was going to broach the subject with his family. Was it even necessary at this point? His mother would be distraught. All these years, she had pretended the late duke was the perfect, faithful husband, and Adelina and Lexy had followed her lead. To tell them about Charles’s parentage would force them to confront the cold truth.
After careful thought, Ivo decided it would be better to leave the matter be for now. Charles didn’t seem to be in a hurry to let the world know. But there would come a point when the truth must come out, and he certainlywasn’t looking forward to the turmoil that would ensue. And speaking of turmoil…
He had gone and embroiled himself in yet another ridiculous dare with Olivia Ashton.
Ivo should be more appalled with himself, but honestly, he could not regret making the challenge. It was the only bright spot in his life. Olivia had looked so miserable that night at the Monteiths’, brooding over the piano keys as if she was carrying the weight of the world upon her shoulders. He’d recognized how her mouth was turned down in that sulky way that always made him want to kiss the life out of her. Instead of kissing her, he’d thrown out that outrageous challenge. Well, it had certainly shaken her out of her melancholy.
